


Always

by Archet



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy, Hungry Faramir, M/M, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, True Love, You can't stop love like this, adoration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archet/pseuds/Archet
Summary: Faramir watches over Boromir's slumber, for a time.
Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)
Kudos: 14





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I neither own nor created these characters.  
> Feedback: would love it! Welcomed and appreciated.  
> Note: this was posted originally on my LiveJournal years ago. I'm working on moving my older fic over to A03. Can also be found archived on my current DreamWidth journal.

The hour was late, having passed into deep night, into that dreaming time where all things seem to be at rest, still and quiet. The fire in the stone hearth had long since burned low, a few remaining flames licked among smoldering embers yet still it’s touch was warm, its muted glow strong enough to cast golden glimmers against the lock of fair hair twined between Faramir’s fingertips. He smiled down at his sleeping lover as he released the soft strands, as he stroked them back behind Boromir’s ear. 

Faramir had been awake for some time watching over Boromir’s slumber, touching him, soaking up the warmth and contentment of these priceless, quiet moments of which there had been all too few over the last few months…over the last lifetime. He smoothed his hand over Boromir’s skin, ghosted a gentle caress over the curve of a strong shoulder, leaned down and pressed a kiss its wake. Withdrawing, but only barely, Faramir watched firelight and shadow play across the bare body of his brother and he marveled that this man was his to love. His hand wandered on, stroked, worked at memorizing the warmth and feel of Boromir’s every dip and curve, the shape of every raised scar for all too soon they would be parted and then the ache would take him and this memory, and others like it, would be the only balm against it.

Time wore on and despite Faramir’s gentleness Boromir began to stir beneath the roving touch. He roused slowly, reluctant to depart his contented slumber where he dreamt of strong hands and blue eyes. Yawning, Boromir stretched lazily, and as he opened his eyes he blinked in the low light. 

Faramir’s smile widened as he gazed down into the drowsy green eyes, as he remembered the delicious way Boromir’s body had received his own earlier in the night, the tight heat, the endless want, and in an heartbeat he knew that his gaze must have turned dark and hungry for though barely awake Boromir licked his lips, shifted closer and grinned up at him as if he’d caught Faramir out at making mischief. Faramir took a slow breath, eyes sliding shut briefly at the sensation of his lover’s bare, lean body pressed tightly against his own.

“What are you plotting, brother?”

Faramir laughed at the query, closed his arms around Boromir and rolled so that he was fitted snugly on top of the older man. For a moment he simply let his weight press down, relished the sense of strength in his lover, the sheer warmth but most of all he relished the thought that he could hold again that strength in his hands and watch as Boromir relinquished it to him if Faramir wished, if he would but ask.

“I’m not plotting anything,” Faramir leaned down and nuzzled Boromir’s neck, pressed a gentle kiss there, “I was just thinking.”

Beneath him Boromir promptly snorted, clearly amused. He raised his hands and brushed hair back from Faramir’s face in order to better see his brother’s face. “So what were you _thinking_ , then?”

Faramir paused as he considered his next words, heart pounding, love and sheer desire bringing a heated flush rising over his skin. “I was thinking of how I had you earlier,” he admitted, voice soft but clear, and leaning down he nipped at Boromir’s bottom lip, then pulled back and after a long moment’s pause spent looking into Boromir’s eyes confessed, “I was thinking that I’d like to have you again, brother.”

Boromir blinked, a little stunned at how he quickly he had gone from feeling pleasantly sleepy and amused to being simply engulfed by want. To his chagrin he blushed, and in the same moment he wondered how Faramir possibly saw it in the low light though he must have judging by the hungry, triumphant gleam that flared in the darkened blue eyes. For a moment Boromir considered his many paths of possible responses, and then settling on one that struck him as the most honest, he looked up into his brother’s eyes and replied with that same honesty. 

“You already have me, love, you need not ask. You have me, always.”

In the wake of these words Faramir stopped breathing, he absolutely, literally forgot to breathe and for a handful of heartbeats he simply gazed down into Boromir’s face with wonder, and then he was moving, pressing his body down against Boromir’s, sealing his lips over Boromir’s in a delving, crushing kiss. Long moments passed before reluctantly Faramir drew away, but only so far as to brush his lips against Boromir’s, and as he did he whispered against his brother’s wet, parted lips, _“Always, my love, always.”_

Boromir arched up against him, wordlessly answering in kind and breathlessly Faramir drew down and set about taking what he so desired, what was promised him, and with every kiss laid against kiss swollen lips, with every caress against heated skin, against every scar, with every thrust of his hips that once more sent him delving deep within Boromir, Faramir’s heart whispered again and again and again, _always, my Boromir, always_ …


End file.
